Palestinian hospitality, and beautiful people.

The Palestinian people are my favorite people that I have lived around, on par with Guatemalans. For those who studied abroad with me, you know how much I loved Guatemala and its people.

Here, when you go to shop in the Market, as a welcome gift some times you get your two potatoes and a pepper for free. If you get lost, many times you will find some one who is willing to drop what they were doing and walk you to where you are meant to be. Everyone says welcome, to me specifically because I do not look as if I am from here.

Last week we were invited to one of the local volunteers uncles house, for Kanafe, which is a desert that is known for being from Nablus. All of the locals organized their cars to come and pick up all the internationals. It is amazing of them, the locals we have all become friends with to organize and come get all 12-14 of us.

We head over to this mans house, and when we walk it is fountains and chairs everywhere, a beautiful place to entertain, a sanctuary from the streets. No sign of an occupation were present in this beautiful patio, other than the background of the man who owns the house, who got out of jail three years ago after spending 12 years in Jail for fighting against the Israeli's during the Intifada. He lived in Balata refugee camp and upon his return he was appalled at the state of the youth, getting into fights with each other, doing drugs, trying to act like gang bangers. So he has started a project called Al Oja River Association that is very similar to IMAN's project on the Southside of Chicago. He is providing opportunity for energy to be directed else where, to education, religion, or art, or to clean up the refugee camp and do revitalization projects.

We sat around and talked, some of us walked over to see how the home made Kanafe is made. The night was full of good conversation and it seemed that our host was enjoying the sight of so much life on his patio.

They invited us over for a BBQ the following night which turned out to be even more hospitable as the night before, with the nice glasses being brought out, and the coffee being brought around for everyone to take one. I aspire to have the hospitality that this culture emanates.

One tid-bit I need to add about my time here, not only are these people hospitable, they are also some of the most attractive people I have ever seen. Walking down the street it is hard not to stare into these deep blue and green eyes contrasted by dark olive skin. The girls in their Hijab's are consistently on-fleek with their make-up and clothing, it makes me feel bad about my hair being up in a bun looking all jenk, because I can only imagine how nice their hair looks even though it is covered by a Hijab.

Then men here, for the most part are so polite and eager to talk, about anything. I am legitimately in love with these people. Not to say they are perfect, but I truly appreciate many if their imperfections.

I had this realization of how awesome and attractive everyone is while I was at a BBoy competition, people were break dancing and I could clearly see young adult men mentoring youth. No extra credit, not for a college appliction or to stuff a resume, they do this because it is a good thing to do. These men enjoy break dancing and are supporting the youth in their community to stay off the streets and instead hang out with them and dance. Working on a skill where they can set and accomplish goals. Here is one of the mentors performing before he sits as a judge for the competition.

One more instance I have to mention is, the other night at a gathering of quite a few people to say good by to a couple volunteers, a man approached me as I walked in and said, "I came here to say goodbye to Mees and Ed and to talk to you." I was startled, and asked why and he mentioned that he had read my blog about Israel and he wanted to know if I understood that their Independence day is considered the catastrophe here. I immediately realized what he was referring to. Before writing for this blog I created another for my time in Israel. He read the last post for this, which was about celebrating independence day in Israel.


After speaking with him for quite a while, I realized that he was willing to understand the humanity of those on the other side of the conflict, which is hard to do with the occupation here. He recognized that this was a beacon of hope for many people fleeing persecution. Also, that it has happened and the emotions that surround these events regardless of how catastrophic they were for your people are valid for those sitting on the other side. The legitimacy of a mothers grief whether it was a Palestinian mother who lost their child or a Israeli Mother who list their child, the grief is no less or more valuable because of the ethnic identity of the mother and child. Whether we agreed or not, I was able to speak openly about my opinions which is not a freedom I felt I had while in Israel.

As I have spent more time here, I have realized that the countless instances of hospitality and of amazing conversation with beautiful people will forever leave an imprint on myself and the way that I continue to interact with people as my journey continues.

-Jliv.

Day Trip: Nablus and Sebastia, West Bank.

Nablus is in the northern end of the West Bank. So Day Trips are easiest on the North end, though I know people who have gone south to Bethlehem, magical places can be found with less time spent on a bus.

North into Israel's territory is Nazareth. Jesus was raised in Nazareth, so that brings some 2000 year old history to the table. Another place near by and still with in the West Bank is Sebastia, which is a village near Nablus. 

Ancient coins... maybe...

Sebastia has roman ruins, which I have never seen in person before, having the art history background to be able to identify ruins and what time period they came from with in the Roman rule was very exciting.  

Ruins in Sebastia

Wandering around with a boy speaking Arabic to me, and nodding along as if I understood this great history he was telling me was also pretty entertaining. The amphitheater was distinguishable, but otherwise it was truly up to the imagination to figure what these ruins use to look like. The child like imagination that is able to come out in these instances is marvelous, and I will never pass up an opportunity to explore.

Shawarma and a Coke

Sebastia is also home to the tomb of John the Baptist. Which consequently I could not find, but if you like religion.. I am sure you could find it. We grabbed some Shawarma, which had mustard in it, thats not normal for Shawarma, but it was delicious. Sitting in the town square watching life move around, feels serene. 

Heading back to Nablus we decided to find one of the soap Shops that Tariq my travel buddy mentioned was the coolest place in the Old City. I cannot describe where this place is, other than at the entrance to the old city from the street project Hope is on.. you turn down a narrow road to the right and walk until you find it. It was beautiful with spices out in bags everywhere, incense and soap all made at the factory in Nablus. Even more magical was the back room set up like a bedouin tent, with treasures surrounding you. 

Old City Streets

During the many conflicts that have affected Nablus some people fled their homes, and some homes were destroyed. The man who owns this shop, went around collecting valuables, in hopes that people would return and be able to reclaim their valuables. When people returned, they let him keep their valuables in this room as a show case of their culture for visitors that were coming to Nablus, and as thanks to the owners for collecting them. 

Video of the best Kanafe shop in Nablus and how quickly this stuff is snatched up

After the soap shop, it was early afternoon which in Nablus means time for Kanafe. Kanafe is amazing, its a sweet cheese desert, and no written description could give it justice. Nablus is known for its Kanafe being the best, other Arab cities do not even compare. So we headed to get some Kanafe, and people were already lined up to grab some for later in the afternoon. 

"The best Kanafe is made with Nablusian water and Nablusian Cheese, the rest is just not the same."

A good day around Nablus involves Shawarma, ancient ruins, soap and Kanafe. The turkish baths would have been a perfect way to finish off this Nablusian day, but the Baths are only open to women Tuesday and Sunday, so instead I will be heading their before I leave. 

If you are ever in Nablus for a day, I would have to say a walk through the old city, Kanafe, that beautiful soap shop and venturing 15 minutes out of the city to Sebastia for some ancient ruins is the perfect way to spend it. 

It is interesting writing these posts as I can go from one day writing about a political demonstration to the next being a day filled with touristy firsts. Life in Palestine is surly a trip. 

-Jliv. 

Kafr Qaddum, May Friday 20th 2016.

Last Friday I attended a demonstration.

All of the internationals, sat the night before talking about going, how to get their, and who was and was not planning on going. From that conversation came discussions on why we, as internationals should or should not attend these. "Should" is not a word I like to use often, first because I really do not enjoy being told what to do, and second because that implies that outside forces can dictate your decisions. 

Here, in Palestine, that is exactly the issue. Outside forces dictate just about everything you can and cannot do, leaving little room for agency or opportunity. That is the reason for demonstrations like the one that I attended. 

Press, that have been coming ever week from Palestinian papers and News Channels.

It is hard to live here, each step and each part of your day seems to be affected by the occupation. What you can buy, what you can sell, where you can and cannot go. Practicing Islam or religion in general seems to be one of the only free options, and that at time due to restriction of movement, can be a challenge. 

Think about basic human rights, think about your family, your home, being parts of your life that could easily be taken away from you. 

On the left, the organizer of the demonstration waving the Palestinian flag, and right a youth with his 'weapon' in hand.

The place that I went to, is called Kafr Qaddum. I went with a few other internationals, enough to fill a taxi. It took 30 minutes to get from Nablus to Kafr Qaddum, that is the main reason for this demonstration. The people have taken one concrete example of the occupation and focused on it, that example is the closure of the main road from Kafr Qaddum to Nablus. From the Village to the city where goods are sold and bought, and it is closed because of the near by new Jewish settlement that was built. The safety of the settlers is a concern to the Israeli Army so they have maintained the road closure. This meant that the Taxi we took to the village took 30 minutes instead of 7 minutes. 

The leader of the protest mentioned that during the Intifada, it made sense for the road to be closed, but that since the end of the intifada in 2008, the negotiations to re-open the road have all been held together with empty promises and that the road closure has become a reminder, and an instrument of oppression. A reminder that the Palestinians lack control, and that the Israeli's plan to make it considerably easier to live somewhere else rather than here. 

Regardless of the clarity that it would be easier to live somewhere else, the people stay, and they persist with hopes and dreams of bright futures. As we arrived people greeted us with the usual welcome, asking where we were from and why we came. 

I realized that we had a role as internationals and that the roll is to spread the word. These demonstrations are frustratingly ineffective, and that is because no one is watching. That is because no one outside is recognizing the abuses that are happening here, specifically people in the US. I felt out of place, as a women and as an American, still I feel that it was very important to have attended and observed this, hopefully it will bring me a step closer to being a better educator. 

When a tear gas does not explode, they set it off and try to fling it back towards the soldiers

As we walked from the center of the town to the road which is closed, I realized that two women attended other than me, and they were the other internationals. All of the women in the village stay at home, and in the west we might see that is oppression, and you know what maybe sometimes it is, but I consider safe guarding the home equally as important as walking to the closed road. The area of the demonstration and the destruction that accompanies political demonstrations is not in a field far away, it is in their village, on their streets. Right when this all began a window was broken of a house, a man turned to me and told me that that is the house of the leader of the demonstration, and that it is always targeted, most windows on it are broken, it has been sprayed with nasty brown water and has caught fire a few times. 

These people are living it, the young boys are running around their role models, with swimming googles for the tear gas and a scarf over their mouths. The idea that these teenage boys are the central image of what we fear as Americans, is disturbing. An Arab guy, with a scarf wrapped around his face. Once you see it this begins to clicks, once you see that this teenage boy in his jeans, a t-shirt and Adidas with a rope in hand and a scarf around his face does not in anyway compare to the presence of an Israeli Soldier. 

Left, tear gas canister and right a teacher at the town, and a weekly participant

As the soldiers throw tear gas canisters down from their strategic points, everyone ducks, and looks around for where it will fall. I can tell you right now, tear gas sucks,  it chokes, it burns, it feels like it is coating your mouth yet you cannot spit it out. When the men ran, we ran with them. I had a scarf wrapped around my face, and it did absolutely nothing other than covering how distorted my face was, my sunglasses hiding my tearing, burning eyes. This is what these people do every week. 

Every week since 2008 on Friday and Saturday they protest, they walked towards the street never quite getting their. The frustration rose from with in me, this is ineffective, why are these adults exposing their children to this apparently ineffective means of attaining their goals? From 5 years old or even younger this is what these kids see as a means of affecting change! Then I realized, what else can they do? What other options are available? And is this a means of maintaining a symbolic struggle, so their kids understand how important it is to stay? 

Burning Tires

I am struggling with this mentally, it hurts, to see this and know that my tax dollars are supporting this. The day we spent at Kafr Qaddum, was one of the calmest protests in months, no live rounds, just rubber bullets and tear gas. The Palestinians lite burning tired in the road in order to slow or stop the tanks. The Israeli Army brought a bulldozer to move it so the tanks could pass. The boys flung live tear gas canisters and rocks at the soldiers. 

One of the largest human rights abuses of the second Intifada was the arrests of children for throwing rocks, these kids were beat, or interrogated before returned to their families. I am imagining what a rock is compared to tear gas or a live bullet. The leader of the protest mentioned his sons femur was shattered by a live bullet from the Israeli's his son is 11 and just got to the point where he can walk on his own again. I understand that both sides have fault and responsibility in this situation but, how can a people grow to trust each other with so much existing fear, and I mean on both sides Israeli's are afraid and so are Palestinians. 

Injuries, very minimal and minor that were sustained during this day of demonstration.

I hope that this post brings up some reflective points for people, about the privilege we have to be living in such a safe space with our humans rights being respected, and our youth having opportunity. 

This group posts weekly videos of the demonstrations, below is the link to their Youtube channel. 

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCoGyRQL0wU0LzZAC44knHKA

Photo Credit to Patri de Blas, thank you!! you are an amazing photographer. 

Building a team, building a bench

Along with working at Cambridge, I have been out and about with the other volunteers at Project Hope.

From Batman movie screenings, to Bowling to going away get togethers, the community of international volunteers here is warm and inviting, and ready to share and talk about experiences they have had as well as listen to your experiences.

I now have a travel buddy for my 4 days in Jordan! Also I am going to cancel the insanely expensive tour that I was going to go on and we will be touring it together with the Jordan Pass. Tariq, a Canadian that has been here for almost three months teaching leaves about the same time as I do, so I am excited to get to spend some time adventuring through Jordan with him. Side note, Jordan is a Kingdom, just incase people did not know, I did know kingdoms still existed. On top of being a kingdom their Jordanian Dinar is currently toping the dollar, so the country is doing well for itself despite taking in countless Palestinian and recently Syrian refugees. We will be heading towards Petra and the Wadi Rum for sure, from their I will probably see Amman before heading back to Tel Aviv.

When I think about the intentions I set, I realize that I have kept to them, working out every morning on the Porch, Reading about 20-40 pages a day of my book. Playing guitar before dinner, and posting to this blog regularly, and cooking quite a few meals, though I still have not found the super market, but the open market in the old Roman city of Nablus will just have to do.

In addition to these intentions, I have been at Cambridge every day, going out every night and I spent some time at a vocation school Wednesday building a bench. I have to go into more detail about this school. These are boys from 14-18 that were not doing well in high school, so they were sent to a rehab/vocational school. Everyone told me they were unruly, did not listen and that I should wear some layers so they do not focus on my body.

When I arrived I figured I would get a gist of what the school was mike maybe do some team building exercises, and then from that I could plan for a following lesson. Turns out they wanted to build something right away. So, being the project lead from Rebuilding Together that has been ingrained into me, I began teaching the young men how to build a bench. Mind you, I was speaking english and working on our measurement system from the states, and they were speaking arabic and using the metric system. Regardless, we were able to build the majority of the bench, and we will be finishing the bench Sunday. I had the opportunity to see some of the other projects they have worked on and it put my bench to shame. I had to explain that my design was not for aesthetics, but for utility. Next time I go I will be prepared, with close towed shoes, and I will ditch the flowy clothing. We finished the day with some arm wrestling matches. These kids have so much potential, and so much energy, that sitting still in a classroom was not an option yet they worked very well ads a team in a shop, and they respected and listened to the advice I had to give as minimal as that was.

Today I will be heading to Jerusalem and them on to Hebron. Hebron has the most visible signs of the occupation, so that will be very interesting to see and to remember. Tomorrow I am thinking about going to a demonstration, not to participate but to observe and witness.

I am excited to return to the vocational school Sunday and finish what we began. When I got home last night I saw a beautiful Red Sunset, as I heard the call to prayer, and this view, this instance on the porch is something I look forward to every night, maybe being here gets me away from the multitude of responsibilities I otherwise would have in the states and that is why this is so enjoyable. I have a feeling that it is meaningful to me because it is fleeting and I know that I only have so many sunsets to watch over this city, middle eastern sunsets are absolutely beautiful.



More to come when the weekend is up,

-Jliv

Arts, English and a little Bill Withers

I really should be writing everyday because now, the last three days are jumbled in my mind.

So this will be an update of sorts, I have been teaching quite a bit. With the Cambridge school.

For any educators that have been reading or those from Camp Augusta, you might recognize some of these.

Comics Drawn by students, pay attention to the one on the left

The first day I was in we made a comic strip in english. I began the class by reading Calvin and Hobbes, which has a considerable amount of adult humor, but the kids seemed to enjoy it.

Students working on their comic strips and asking questions/reading my comic strip

After reading through a few strips of the comics, I asked the kids to imagine what they would write about, and then we began our construction of our own comics. Some wrote about princesses, some about monsters, and some about the occupation. Its so interesting seeing which children are feeling the effects to a larger extent of the occupation. Seeing a comic strip about a boy who throws rocks at the trucks that come through and how he is the hero of the town, really opened my eyes to the diversity of children at this school. Cambridge is one of the best schools in Nablus, it is very expensive, so I had the assumption that the kids here had a somewhat privileged life. Here, regardless of privilege, everyone is affected by the statelessness of Palestine.

The following day we did an exercise on creativity, it is called "The boy and the Red Flower". This exercise is about me as the teacher, restricting the creativity of the students consistently through out the entire exercise while they try to draw. For students in the states that I have done this with it is very frustrating, students get upset the object, they question the teacher. Yet here a sense of resignation was floating in the air. Every time I changed the expectations of the drawing, students looked sad, and tried to fix their drawing best they could. At the end when I held up the flower I had drawn and I said, if you flower does not look like mine, you have done the drawing wrong. I gave a good 30 seconds of wait time. The students sat, in frustration, in silence. The room was somber, I asked if I could read the story of "The boy and the Red Flower" Click on the link to read the story, it talks about a boy that was told to copy the teacher so much that his imagination had been snuffed out. Then we turned the lights off in the room and asked students to close their eyes, and think of a flower, the most beautiful flower they had ever seen. Then we asked students to draw this flower they had imagined. The results were beautiful.

The flowers students drew in comparison to my boring red flower

Yesterday, we worked on singing a song in English, the song I chose to work on was Bill Withers, Lean on Me. It is appropriate and it is about friendship, also the words are not to challenging for a 7 year old. We practiced and we played guitar. Everyone got a chance to hold the guitar, and try to play it. The students are so full of curiosity, it is exciting to see. We will continue this song next week along with more english and arts lesson plans. I would never work with 7 year olds long term but this has been a great learning experience for me.

This post is about the students I am working with and not so much of my outside experiences, I know people donated to the work that I am doing here and I want them to know that their donations are going to a good place, I love Dr.Seus and part of the donations you all made went towards the teacher of the classroom I am in getting quite a few Dr.Seus books to help students learn how to use more conversational english. Along with the supplies to do these projects, and hopefully a painting project coming up next week. So thank you to everyone who supported me financially and in other ways. 

-Jliv

Dying to live.

I am insanely busy living life, which Destiny if you are reading this, I know... I should be more like this in the States.

Yesterday I went over all of my paperwork with Project Hope, and I began shadowing. I shadowed two classes, one of 7 year olds that speak and read english very well at the Cambridge School. The second class I shadowed was a level 1 adult english.

The community of girls I live with are pretty amazing, in between the classes, someone brought Sfi-ha home to eat, and we had grapes and cookies. Everything feels like it is centered around meals here, which I do not mind at all.

Then we went to the park for a going away party type-thing. Nablus is the city of sweets, at the park we had a condensed milk like sweet pudding with granola that was amazing, then we had slushies with ice cream in them and then we had chocolate cake with walnuts, all in about an hour and a half period. I love it and hate it at the same time, I have officially re-downloaded the work out app on my phone, but I cannot say no to trying all of these new sweets. Maybe ill just get 'thick' as Stanley one of the other volunteers calls it.

We played an hour long game of chess, that was a very stressful experience. As I waited for my opponent to make his moves a reoccurring thought came into my mind. This park, centered around a fountain, with people playing cards, listening to music, eating or smoking shesha, is so calm and peaceful. Not peaceful like in the states, where for things to be peaceful means that the park is empty and you are enjoying it on your own, but peaceful, as in everyone interacting, with out friction. A friction I most would expect to see in every aspect of Palestinian life with the amount of conflict here in recent years. Nablus was the epicenter of the 2nd intifada, which lasted from 2000 to 2008, how are people so peaceful, that was not long ago, in 2008 I was a sophomore in high school, and people here were trapped and occupied. While I was beginning to learn about human rights, people here had been spending years fighting for their own, kids my sisters age were being arrested and tried in court.

We finished the game of chess, I must say with pride that I won a game of chess against four men. We headed home to hang out, I practiced guitar and waited for this mountain we were all planning to go to. We all piled into the cars of the "Haram boys", as they wish to be called. They smoke cigarettes and drive fast, listening to very inappropriate music from the US. Side note, Nablus is one of the most conservative cities in the West Bank, because of being the center of the intifada, they have held tight to their values and traditions in hopes of not losing them to the enemy. Remember in a place that is considered a failed state by the rest of the world, in order to survive as a people and hopefully soon as a state, you have to be nationalist, you have to fight for the way you live. So "Haram" which means bad or sinful, in the Islamic religion has a wider umbrella here than it does in other places.


The locals picked up al of us internationals, a whooping three cars worth of us. I brought the guitar, and we drive up to the samaritan village, only to turn back and go to another mountain top. The Samaritan's are a group older than the Jews, which means they are very old, only about 700 of them remain and they live on a mountain top near by. These people have Palestinian, and Israeli passports, they are a very interesting group.

This place is very mountainous, or "foothilly" as some would say. We drove up to the top and got out to see the whole city of Nablus, with Tel Aviv, Jerusalem and even the Jewish settlements sitting on the outskirts of the city from where we were sitting. The view was magical, and the historical representation of what these little lights scattered in the distance stood for and represented meant even more to me. I decided to climb up higher, even with a risk of snakes, nettles and the fact that I wore Chacos.. big mistake. It was worth it, I saw my first shooting star, I was able to visually take in what the occupation meant, and though it was still light polluted, the stars felt quite a bit closer to where I was sitting.

At 11:30 we headed back to the house for the curfew at 12, it is 2016, and the Israeli Army still comes by the four refugee camps in Nablus every night, Jets fly over head during the day and pop up check points are a constant not-so surprising, surprise. As I got home and washed my feet with cold water hoping to be able to pull all of the nettles out, I was reminded of my privilege to experience a place like this with the locals. Also, I need to mention that these Haram Boys, are actually people who just finished schooling to be lawyers and doctors, they are the 1% in Nablus, with nice cars, and no where to take them, impressive degrees and nowhere to use them. They hang out with internationals to practice english.  These are a people that are dying to live, they just need the opportunity to utilize the education they were able to achieve through their relative privilege here.

More to come,

-Jliv

Intentions for my time in Palestine

Nablus, is 'chill'. No one would expect one of the places filled with so much turmoil to be quite so relaxed.

Project hope is also chill, maybe a bit to chill. Right now the city is between a large festival ending and ramadan beginning. In addition to that classes are ending exam week is happening and prom is next week. Learning english is not on the top of most peoples priority lists.

My mission here feels as if it is changing, I an only here for 2 weeks, so today I will be observing classes, and hopefully by the end of next week I will have gotten the opportunity to teach a few, and assist in a few also.

With my minimal amount of volunteering and quite a bit of free time this next two weeks with be me working on myself.

So I have set goals. I live in a house with 4 other women, so I will be cooking, food here is extremely cheap, so I have a goal of cooking 4 dishes I have never cooked before, and also cooking what every I can find for the other nights, it seems I will be cooking for the whole house, which I have come to not mind at all.

Also, I would like to finish the book the Iron Cage, which is about Palestine and its struggle for independence. The first book I will be reading of my own accord since last summer, I am very excited to gain a better academic understanding of this occupation.

With the amount of Nutella I have eaten in the last 2 days, I want to exercise, but here with the conservative culture and the extreme heat, I think that means aerobics or Yoga on the porch. I want to create a routine that I can do in the house that will be a good 30 minute work out. (I also want to get over this weird awkward feeling of working out in a house)

Last I want to develop my plans for my tiny house with more detail, and keep up with this blog.

Hopefully writing these goals down can keep me on track.

I am planning on going to Petra Jordan before I leave, and possibly Cairo also! Life is lovely.. and I cannot wait to see what progress I make with these intentions.

Feeling Peace in a Place of Distress

Hello,

After blogging about Israel, and finding it to be an amazing outlet I decided to continue..

Right now I am going to be writing about current experiences and thoughts, but when I return to the States I will be going through my journals from my time in Central America and Northern California.

For informative reasons and because I searched this before I left, to get to the west bank is not hard, from where ever you are, get to Jerusalem, take the light rail to the Damascus Gate, maps at the Light rail station show where the Arabic busses are and then get in line for the correct bus, everything with be in Hebrew, Arabic and English until you get to your next destination. 

Today I began my day in the free state of Israel in a bed in Rohovot, and I am now sitting on the balcony of a building in Nablus, a city of the occupied West Bank, or as those here call it, Palestine. I will be working with a program called Project Hope, here is Nablus until Ramadan begins and I return to the States.

I was nervous coming here, after the way the Israeli's that I had been around had reacted and talked about the West Bank and Gaza. As I walked from the train stop to the Damascus Gate bus station, I got more nervous. I sat next to a girl at the gate for a bus labeled Direct to Ramallah.

The view of Nablus from the Porch, a sense of peace is setting in as I eat falafel, and chat with the girls. 

When the bus arrived I had not expected it but everyone rushed to get on. I was flustered I grabbed my massive bag and got in line. As two young women and a girl elbowed their way in front of me I got mad, I was pissed, heated,  excuse me you think because I have this massive bag holding me back that you can shove your way in front of me then when I got on the driver said I needed to put the bag in the back I handed him a 50 shekel bill and put the bag in the back, when getting back on the Bus I realized in the time it took to put my bag in back all the seats had been taken, and I still had my small backpack purse and lunch. The driver only gave me 16 shekel back, which I knew was not the right amount and I just got massively ripped off but I was just happy to be on a bus to Ramallah.

As I stood, or more like stumbled, hate grew inside of me for those girls. I began thinking things like, Jessie, they don't have the opportunity or privlege you have, just leave it and that justification just made me more disgusted with myself. The bus ride for a good 30 minutes was horrible, I was stumbling back and forth, my arms getting tired of holding my body in place, and I kept thinking their are so many men on this bus that do not have any bags, and I saw them men getting up for other girls but they wouldn't get up for me, they must just not like me. They saw me and they made a judgement and that is it, this assumption was me making judgement on them, my mind can be really nasty mean sometimes.

Then I looked down at a women who was sitting in a seat I had been holding onto, she looked up at me and slowly in her beautiful broken english, "Why do the men sit while you stand, it is shameful, I am embarrassed" and my heart sank into my chest a bit deeper. These people do not hate me, I am way to in my head, and I have been with Israeli's for a hot minute. This women just pulled me back up to the surface.

Porch from the room I am sleeping in in Nablus

The bus did not make it all the way to the bus station, construction in Ramallah made that not possible, so for my 34 shekel bus ride I got to walk the last 5 blocks to the bus station in Ramallah. As I worked through my mind ways to justify the money that I spent on that ride and not asking for the rest of my change (when I get ripped off because I am in another country and I am flustered it really makes me made at myself and the people who rip me off, but mostly just myself) I found the station. Turns out busses are not running today, which is shitty. I found a shared taxi for 16 Shekel to take me to Nablus, which I was just fine with, I got to sit and it was half the price of that fucking bus.

On the bus in from Ramallah I hadn't even realized when I entered the West Bank, but in this Taxi, I noticed the security check point, with young Soldiers hanging the Israeli flag on their little booths, and stopping to ask for the ID cards of everyone in the Van, when I handed up my passport the drier quickly handed it back and did not give it to the guard, I wonder why.

As we approached Nablus I noticed the signs were not written in three languages anymore, everything was in Arabic. I got anxious about getting off at the right stop, so I uncomfortably asked the drive to drop me off at the hospital that the Project Hope organizers had recommended. The man next to me said it with his Palestinian accent, and the driver understood, when I got out, the man sitting next to me asked where I was going and I said Yasmeen Hotel next to the hospital. He then continued to ask me if I knew how to get their, he gave me brief directions and then said, "Can I just walk you there?"

At the beginning of this journey I was being shoved out of line by two bitchy young women who apparently just lacked manners. Now A man is offering to go out of his way to walk me to the Hotel that I will meet the program people for Project Hope at, I know it is human nature to assume and categorize but I really wish I could transcend that ti a certain extent. We walked and talked about our schooling and our jobs and why his English was so good. When I got to the Hotel they called Tawfiq, Tawfiq is a boss (figuratively and maybe literally as well) , he tried to charge me 5 shekels for carrying my bag and then he drove me around in a car his younger brothers pimped out with tinted windows and weird jenk add-ons all over the car, not to mention its a manual. Makes me think of the 'riced out' cars in Chicago.

He showed me his photography, he talked about how tomorrow he takes his final test for his Masters, and how his mom wants him to get married, yet he feels he cannot commit to anything because he might move to the US or Canada on a scholarship to get his PhD. He talked about working for an organic company in Mikwakee but turned down the job because they began brewing organic beer, and he talked about the fact that he works with Project Hope because his family came here in 1948 as refugees and how he wish someone would have helped him as a child with his education. This guy is charming and hilarious. When I asked him where he was from, he said Hiafa, and his family came here in 1948, his grandfather told him that he should always say Haifa and that he should tell his children that also, because maybe one day they will be able to return.

I really love this old place, the door from the porch to the room

I un-packed and ate lunch with 3 of the girls I will be living with, we talked on the balcony that overlooks the city from this old apartment building that I have already fallen in love with. I feel more at peace than I have through out this entire Journey, I am going to be here for at least 15 days, I have unpacked, eaten and I'll shower soon, maybe. I am reading "The Iron Cage" its about Palestine's inability to achieve statehood, I am immersed, and everything in this house in labeled with its arabic word, I have a feeling this will not be the only time in my life that I come to this house.

To all that have been following my journey, I made it! Thank you for any support or good vibes you have sent my way. They are much appreciated.

-Jliv